Something Wicked
by Irena K
Summary: An unholy alliance. ::Crossover::


Knives knew something was wrong with Legato the moment he entered the chamber

Disclaimer: They belong to Whedon and Nightow. I worship, I grovel

Author's notes at end.

Rated PG-13 for adult situations.

SOMETHING WICKED

Knives knew something was wrong with Legato the moment he entered the chamber.

His most fervent follower was normally fully upright and alert whenever Knives beckoned, always ready and eager to please.

This time, the blue-haired man sat on the floor, head bowed and legs splayed out in front of him. If Knives didn't know better, he'd swear he was asleep. He sent out a cautious telepathic call anyway. _Legato?_

No answer. Not surprising.

He approached slowly, unsure what to expect. As he grew closer, he saw the red splotches that marred Legato's white coat. Frowning, he hunkered down next to him and inspected the damage further. The bleeding appeared to originate from wounds on the neck, two small puncture marks cut into the artery. He checked Legato's pulse briefly but found a steady, if weak beat.

Whatever had attacked the human had left him alive.

Legato at death's door didn't particularly bother him. He was a useful tool, but a tool was all he was. It would be highly irritating to get another one this late in the game but certainly possible.

No, what was far more disturbing was the fact that someone had managed to get so far into his inner sanctum without detection. He slipped his gun into his hand.

Then the singing started.

"I wonder, as I wander

Out under the sky…"

A feminine voice, high, just slightly off-key.

"Why so many people

Come to me to die…"

The song he recalled faintly. And he was fairly certain those weren't the words.

He turned towards the voice. A rail-thin woman stood about a hundred yarz away from him on the ramp, swaying slightly as her arms snaked intricate but meaningless patterns in the air. Her clothing recalled a far more distant time, corset leaving her arms bare and skirts floating around her feet in light, airy chiffon. The red of the fabric offset her pale skin and dark brown hair. When she opened her eyes, he swore he saw the barest hint of yellow in their dark depths.

"He tasted like music," she told him in a strange, unknown accent. "Danced all the way down."

She punctuated her words with her body, time kept only to the music in her head. A mad woman. Odd but no bother. His grip tightened on the revolver and he resolved to punish Legato appropriately for letting such a bizarre creature take advantage of him so easily.

He raised the gun to her heart and she just laughed. "Little stinging bees? Will you try to hurt me with one?"

No fear of death from this one. Probably too far gone to realize the danger of her situation. He was likely doing the humans a favor by getting rid of her. His finger clenched and the bullet hit true, rocking her back and staining her corset a deeper red. She clutched her chest and fell to her knees, balancing precariously there for a minute.

Hmm. Must not have hit the heart directly. Well, he could always come closer and get a better shot.

He strolled over and stopped immediately before her, taking aim at her head. The blood from here would stain his flight suit but so be it. He could always take it out on Legato later.

If he hadn't been so preoccupied with visions of torture and cruelty, perhaps he would have noticed her move sooner. But then, she was impossibly fast, so perhaps not.

As it was, one moment he stood there ready to kill her, the next his gun had been batted away and his air supply cut off as the woman seized him tightly by the throat.

"Now that," she hissed, hand tightening its hold. "Wasn't very nice."

She threw him back with incredible strength. He found himself disconcertingly airborn for a second before crashing down a dozen yarz away from her. He rubbed his damaged throat and tried to maintain his veneer of cool intensity, which was rather difficult what with his jaw practically on the ground as he gulped down badly needed air. 

The apparently bulletproof woman seemed to have recovered nicely, her anger disappearing as rapidly as it appeared. She brushed imaginary dirt off her skirts with a prim and proper air, speaking as if to a child. "I shouldn't think you will do that again, no. When in a polite circle, one must remember to behave properly."

She looked back to him and gave him a smile. It could have been described as innocent if it weren't for the predatory gleam in her eyes. "You remind me of my William, all cold blue and bleached white. You both have names that cut, make me bleed." Her eyes fluttered. "Make me scream."

He was intrigued despite himself. She had managed to break into his home, overcome Legato (no small feat), and beat him without batting an eye. That she was completely insane made it all the more interesting. Where had this one been hiding?

She nearly floated towards him, humming tunelessly. She approached him from the side, cold hand tickling his jaw line and mouth next to his ear. "I'm not what you think, not with breath and heart and life. I'm something more, something superior." She grabbed his hand and placed it over her breast, contact growing more intimate. "Can you feel me?"

Well, he could feel a great deal of her, yes, but…

Oh.

He pressed his hand more firmly to her flesh.

No, he was right the first time.

His mouth curved into a small, vicious smile. "Well, well. Isn't this an unexpected turn of events?"

She giggled, pulling away slightly. "Ah, but the stars guided me here. Told me all of the deep secrets that try to hide in the dark."

"Did they?" He raised one amused eyebrow. "And just what secrets do you know?"

"Many, many. They buzz in my head, little flies going round and round." She climbed around him, over his lap and to his back, arms encircling his shoulders, pulling his body up against hers, mouth once again to his ear. "They say you're searching for someone. Friend…"

A hand lightly traced the bruises on his throat.

"Lover…"

The hand danced down, a straight line from the center his chest until it nearly hit his groin.

"Enemy…"

Back up again and the arms tightened.

"Brother."

Barely a whisper, the single word sent chills down his spine.

"I can help, make it all better, make it right."

Yes. Yes, she could.

"I just want a small sip, a taste of you."

He knew this would come, from the moment rational thought caught up with what instinct screamed at him. And he found he simply didn't care. He leaned into her embrace.

"Deal."

He felt her smile. "I promise to be a good girl."

And then the jaws clamped around his throat, the fangs tearing into his neck. It was unbearable agony, this torture, this rape, robbing him of his very essence, all that made him what he was. But it was pleasure as well, ecstasy sweeping in as he danced the exhilarating, precarious line between life and death. He reached up, grabbed her by the hair, urging her on, not knowing when to let her stop, caring little if she did. 

He had never in his life wanted a woman before – not those imperfect human creatures that somehow thought themselves true and real.

But, dear god, he wanted _her_.

She drew back and he whimpered slightly, the torment of separation worse than the pain she so easily inflicted on him. She pulled his head back and he saw yellow in her eyes and ridges on her forehead, her real nature appearing for the first time before shifting back to her human façade. She crushed his lips to hers, forcing his mouth open as her tongue explored greedily and he tasted his own blood. She pulled back, smiling possessively.

That should have annoyed him. It didn't.

"Who are you?" he whispered. She began licking the wound on his neck and he trembled.

"I'm a princess," she answered. "But you can call me Druscilla."

END

Author's notes: Ah, another plotless romp from Weird Crossovers 'R Us. I do, however, have a full length Buffy/Trigun crossover in the works. It's stalled right now, so I wrote this to make me feel better. Hopefully, it'll be coming along not too far down the line. We shall see, we shall see.

Why Dru and Knives? Part of the whole Spike fixation. Ah, this would be the Spike of Buffy fame, not Cowboy Bebop. Anyway, Spike and Knives look alike. No, they look _exactly_ alike. It's uncanny. If they ever get around to making a live-action version of Trigun, guaranteed James Marsters will play Knives. 

Besides, don't they make such a great couple? Lots of kinky evilness and wicked fun. ;-)


End file.
